


No Hospitals

by chockfullofsecrets



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chockfullofsecrets/pseuds/chockfullofsecrets
Summary: “Bloody detective child,” Lestrade muttered, turning to go find something warm for Sherlock to wear. Behind him, the couch springs creaked ominously. He spun around on instinct, but it was too late; the only thing that got him was a full view of a pouncing Sherlock colliding with his face.Sherlockreallydoesn't want to go to the hospital.





	No Hospitals

**Author's Note:**

> Originally submitted to [thebest-medicine](http://thebest-medicine.tumblr.com) :)

“Come closer.”

“What?”

“Closer.”

“Do you need some--”

“Closer.”

“Sherlock, I swear— “

  
“I said closer.” The word was infuriatingly commanding even through a fleece blanket, two couch cushions, and the arm Sherlock was currently contorting over his own head to block out the sunlight coming through the windows. “Exactly three steps closer, in your case.”

  
“And here I was thinking you’d sobered up overnight,” Lestrade grumbled, nevertheless taking the three steps to get to Sherlock’s side. He didn’t even want to know how the other man knew his stride length. “How are you feeling?”

  
One month ago, an unnamed government official (“the fat one”, Sherlock had said when he asked for a name) had offered Lestrade a bribe to take his little brother on as a consultant, mostly to stop him from indulging in some kind of drug habit. Lestrade didn’t take the bribe, but he did take the brother, and since then he’d seen some of the most brilliant and foolish things he could conceive of, often some combination of the two. This time leaned firmly toward the latter: his charge had somehow convinced a human trafficking ring to drug and abduct him, knowing that he’d be able to break out regardless and lead Scotland Yard back to the criminals’ base of operations. The abduction had worn off fairly quickly, but apparently the drug was more persistent.

  
“Everyone at the Yard thinks I’ll be up for promotion after last night, by the way. Thank you. You did a good job.”

  
Sherlock’s arm shifted slightly, revealing dark eyes narrowed into a hazy glare. “This isn’t my couch.”

  
“Your couch is an abomination. This one’s mine; we’re in my flat.”

  
“Ah, the concussion watch.”

  
“... you have a concussion?!”

  
“Well, not anymore. But never mind that.” The lump on the couch shifted suddenly upright. “Something important’s come up.”

  
“Never mind – Sherlock, you do know that concussions damage your brain? You know, that thing you use to solve cases? I should have left you at the hospital— “

  
“No hospitals,” Sherlock interrupted. “Let’s talk about yesterday.”

  
“Yes, hospitals, and what about it?”

  
“The officer behind you couldn’t get your attention while you were talking to me— “

  
“I was a bit distracted, you’d just collapsed on the floor!”

  
“—so she poked you and you flinched.”

  
Lestrade blinked.” Oh my god, you really do have brain damage.”

  
“Shut up.” Utterly absurd in a cocoon of blankets and his own long limbs, Sherlock reached out a single finger and prodded Lestrade once in the ribs. He twitched away, unable to stop himself, and could only look on in horror as the other man’s mouth curled up in a predatory smile. “You’re ticklish.”

  
“Alright, that’s it,” Lestrade insisted. “Get up – not with the blanket, Sherlock, you can borrow a jumper like a normal person if you’re really that cold – I’m taking you to see a doctor.”

  
Sherlock straightened slowly, shedding a blanket as he went.

  
“Bloody detective child,” Lestrade muttered, turning to go find something warm for Sherlock to wear. Behind him, the couch springs creaked ominously. He spun around on instinct, but it was too late; the only thing that got him was a full view of a pouncing Sherlock colliding with his face.

  
They fell hard, arms and legs tangled as Lestrade fought to get off the ground and Sherlock fought to keep him there. He’d just regained enough of his breath to get out some truly impressive curses when his entire body jerked as if he’d just been shocked. “Sherlock, don’t you da – hahare – hehehey!” The younger mercilessly raked a hand over his ribs, pinning his shoulder down with the other, and to his dismay Lestrade found himself completely unable to stop the laughter pouring out of his mouth.

  
“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Sherlock declared, digging underneath Lestrade’s lowest rib and receiving a strangled snort for his troubles. “I’m conscious, capable of coherent speech, and able to move on my own – “

  
“Yohou’ve – noHOho, nohot there, nohohot theheere! – “ He grabbed Sherlock’s wrist, jamming his thumb into the muscle to make him stop moving his fingers. “Ugh. You’ve never taken a personal interest in me before – if that’s what this is, I actually don’t know - so obviously something’s gone wrong.”

  
Crouched atop him, Sherlock cocked his head. “Most people would take my interest as a compliment.”

  
“Yeah, well, I know you, so now it’s just kind of concerning.”

  
Sherlock shrugged, twisted his wrist, and got right back to tickling under Lestrade’s arm – with his long arms, he easily trapped Lestrade’s forearm under his elbow, leaving the hollow beneath vulnerable to attack. “You took me home with you. And you said thank you.”

  
Lestrade didn’t know how much more of this he could take. “I cahan tahake it bahaHACK!”

  
“You’re also the most reasonable law enforcement officer I’ve met so far.” Apparently noticing that Lestrade was gasping for breath, Sherlock backed off a little and reduced his efforts to a single finger scratching at the side of Lestrade’s stomach. It was no less hellish, but at least a bit easier on the lungs. “If I get treated at the hospital for drug use, Myc – my brother will notice. He’ll send me away. I –“ His fingers stilled entirely. “I suppose I’m not entirely bored of working with you yet.”

  
“Lovely,” Lestrade grunted. “And I suppose you won’t stop tickling me until I agree to not get you medical attention?”

  
“Exactly,” Sherlock’s face became suddenly expressionless as his fingers exploded into motion once more, not even giving Lestrade a chance to fight back. All he could do was quake with laughter under the assault until he gathered enough air to force out words.

  
“Ohohokay, okay! No hospital, I prohomihise! Just get off me,” he pleaded, and suddenly existing became a bit more bearable as Sherlock leaned back and clambered to his feet. Still flat on his back, Lestrade watched, amused, as he stalked back to the couch and burrowed under the blankets once more.

  
“Alright, fine, go back to sleep then, you infant,” he grumbled, getting up himself and tugging his clothes into some semblance of order. “Just tell me what’s wrong next time, alright? You do that again, and stroppy ‘consulting detective’ or not I’ll give back as good as I get.”

  
If he looked closely, he could just barely make out the corner of Sherlock’s mouth turning up in a smile. “Tea,” he demanded imperiously.

  
“Oh, not this again.”

  
“Tea… please?” Lestrade looked over in surprise, noticing all of a sudden that Sherlock’s face looked even more gaunt than usual. A trick of the light, maybe, but…

  
“Fine, I’ll make you a cuppa and if you actually drink the whole thing I’ll give you a new case to look at.”

  
Sherlock shot up into a sitting position once more, his entire body rigid with the anticipation of a challenge; Lestrade just rolled his eyes and headed into his kitchen.

  
“Just make sure you don’t run off on your own and do something stupid on this one. One of these days, we’ll have to find someone who can actually keep up with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're so inclined, come say hi on [tumblr](http://chockfullofsecrets.tumblr.com)!


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